


made of memories you live by

by clearlykero



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:03:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearlykero/pseuds/clearlykero
Summary: Nao would never ask him to stay, but he won't tell him to go. Natsuya knows this the way he knows the cool embrace of the pool, the way he knows the sun can only be loved if the moon is there to be its opposite.





	made of memories you live by

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday to free!'s best old friend pair. who knew I would ever write them?? thank you vienna teng.

_. _

_ come back to me _

.

There is something about the way Nao looks at him, in small moments between breaths, something about the quirk of his mouth and the tilt of his head that draws a picture of the words he's holding back. A secret still hidden that Natsuya is only beginning to grasp at.

"Happy birthday," Nao says, smiling. Natsuya lays his head on the pillow of his arms and just looks. The late afternoon sun cradles Nao's face in warm yellow light, glances off his spectacles and hides his eyes. On the table between them is a small package in navy blue wrapping paper.

"I told you not to get me anything." Natsuya nudges the present with a finger. "Now I have to get you something too, and you always give better presents."

"It's a talent," Nao agrees. He turns to look out the window. The school baseball team is jogging past the library, hard at work even after their summer ended at the  _ zenchuu _ qualifiers. The first years shout louder than they did at the start of the season, and the second years follow suit. All the third years are there too, in their uniforms with  _ koushien  _ written on the backs to show their determination for next year. Their captain, however, is not with them.

Nao looks back at Natsuya, a tiny wrinkle between his brows, and Natsuya knows he's noticed too. 

"Kadowaki is fine," he says, of the absent captain. He thinks Nao should be worrying about himself before anyone else, much less the baseball team.

"I don't know." Nao clicks his pen annoyingly. He does that when he doesn't want to talk about something. Natsuya waits him out anyway, biting back his impatience, and eventually Nao admits, "I saw him crying on the train, yesterday."

"He cries every year."

"But this year is his last," says Nao, so softly Natsuya can barely hear him. He isn't even sure if he was meant to hear it.

"There's next year. High school," Natsuya replies. They both know they aren't just talking about Kadowaki. Natsuya wishes Nao wouldn't try to act like it doesn't affect him. Like he doesn't love swimming just as much as Natsuya does, now. "He's got three more years, right?"

But all Nao does is smile again, and look down at his English textbook. "Open your present," he says, underlining a phrase in blue pen.  _ The grass is,  _ Natsuya manages to read, before Nao turns the page. The grass is what?

Natsuya sighs and sits up, pulling Nao's present towards him. The wrapping paper feels expensive under his fingers. Usually he'd tear into it, but now he picks at the tape meticulously, ignoring the palpable aura of amusement Nao is emanating.

Inside, he finds a pair of goggles, in pristine condition, but clearly not brand new. They look, somehow, familiar.

"I just got goggles last month," Natsuya says, before he can think about it, and Nao laughs. He always laughs when Natsuya is being especially tactless.

"Yes, but I thought— well, these are the ones I was using." Nao's voice is very steady, and when Natsuya looks up at him, wondering, his eyes are bright with something that isn't amusement at all.

"Yeah," Natsuya says, slowly, "and— oh."

_ A promise,  _ he thinks, that Nao could never give him before. He won't leave swimming. Won't leave Natsuya. And when Natsuya uses these goggles, because he  _ will, _ he'll remember.

"Okay, then that's my present for you all done," he declares, satisfied.

"What is it?" Nao asks.

"Wait until next week," says Natsuya, grinning, already thinking of which pair he's going to gift-wrap. Or ask Ikuya to gift-wrap for him, which is more likely to yield a present that looks like a present.

"Alright," Nao says, long-suffering, but he's smiling like he didn't need to ask at all.

.

_ and hold on to me _

_. _

The phone is uncomfortably hot on his ear. He turns to lie on his back, switching the phone to his other hand instead. He doesn't want to hang up until the clock ticks over. It's early in the morning in America, and the wrong date besides, but he has always been the first to wish Natsuya a happy birthday. Natsuya is used to this by now, and has learned to expect the call. This year, Nao thinks, he needs it a little more.

"Happy birthday," he says quietly, some minutes later. From the other end, soft, even breathing, the sound of bedsheets sliding together. "Are you asleep?"

"No," comes the muffled reply. "Waiting for the rest."

"I can't give you a present this year." Nao plucks at a stray thread on his blanket. He could send something over, he supposes, as long as it isn't fragile. It's only that he's given Natsuya his present in person since they met four years ago, and it feels odd not to do that. Odd not to have Natsuya here, a bicyle ride away.

"Tell you not to every year," Natsuya grumbles, but it's laced with fondness, and it makes Nao's heart skip a beat. He'd never known what it was to have one's heart skip a beat until Natsuya.

"Don't sulk because I give better presents."

"I'm  _ learning, _ " a noise like a head hitting a pillow, "Ikuya liked the mug I got him."

Natsuya hasn't spoken about his brother since the call that woke Nao in the wee hours of the morning, since the first time Nao has ever heard Natsuya cry. He pulls the thread of his blanket until it snaps, and asks: "Another souvenir mug?"

"Yeah. Mexico, this time."

"You haven't even been to Mexico."

"I will, one day. You should come with me." Natsuya sounds like he's waking up a bit now, the idea of a Mexico holiday clearly more appealing than going back to sleep. He might not even have meant to broach the subject of Ikuya. Nao decides not to go back to it.

"What would I do in Mexico?" He thinks about this, instead— at Carnaval, perhaps, Natsuya wreathed in flowers and feathers, face smudged with paint in all colours imaginable. Or just at a club, tasting the tequila that Natsuya is so curious about, licking salt off their lips and hands. He would do whatever Natsuya wanted to do, Nao knows, but there are some truths he must keep for himself. 

"Anything," Natsuya sighs. "Anything at all."

Nao closes his eyes. Now, with nothing but the dark behind his eyelids and the staticky sound of Natsuya's breathing an ocean away, he thinks he could say it. He could, and yet— 

"We can talk about it when you come back," Nao says. He sighs a little, too, at his own cowardice. They are both always dancing around this subject, and Natsuya has probably been ready for that conversation since he returned Nao's gift of swim goggles. It should be Nao to pull it gently into the open, as he always does.

"We have all the time," says Natsuya, just at that perfect moment. Nao's heart aches with it, the feeling he can't name slipping its liquid heat into all of his fragile contours. "Anyway, it's late over there, you've told me happy birthday, I'll call again for yours next week so go to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," Nao answers, and he opens his eyes to a night that is shining with the light of the sun.

.

_ you know i won't lie _

_. _

At the airport, Natsuya is leaning on the handle of his suitcase, and Nao is in a thick knit sweater that Natsuya knows is almost unbearably warm for the season (he's borrowed it before). But Nao folds his arms around himself tighter, like he's cold, and Natsuya doesn't quite know what to say.

"I guess it'll be a while before we see each other again," he says at last, trying not to fidget. Nao looks up at the high ceiling, the girders criss-crossing like so many wires. 

"Ikuya is going to miss you," Nao says.

_ You will too,  _ thinks Natsuya. "He's my one and only baby brother. He'll always be fine."

He bought his ticket months ago, and he knows he can't stay. He can't stay, but it tears at him to leave. The announcement calls his flight again, tinny voice echoing in the empty departure hall. It's late, or early, but he'd wanted to arrive in the morning.

"Your gate's open," Nao tells him, his hand coming up like it's going to touch Natsuya's.

"Yeah," Natsuya draws it out, swaying closer in the hopes that Nao will do something after all. Nao drops his hand to his side, and Natsuya leans back. "I've got a little time. Take a picture with me."

"A picture— oh, all right," Nao changes his mind midway through the sentence, laughing when Natsuya pouts at him. 

They take the picture; Natsuya sets it as his lock screen wallpaper immediately. He's been through a few photos of Nao by now, and this one is his favourite so far. Nao looks sad, almost. Natsuya is a little glad, through his guilt, that Nao looks this way because he is leaving. He thinks he might stay, if only Nao asked, but Nao is Nao because he would never ask.

"I can't wait to get you drunk so I can have a properly incriminating photo." Natsuya slides his phone back into his pocket, sighing. "But that won't be until next year's birthday."

"It truly pains me that I'll miss your first ever drunken escapade," Nao says solemnly. "But I'm sure you'll send me all the photos without me even having to ask."

"You don't know what kind of drunk I'll be."

"I'll call you to confirm my hypothesis."

The announcement sounds over the speakers once more—  _ passengers on flight NH176 to Los Angeles, please proceed to gate 36, gate 36. _ And then they are quiet, watching each other, until Natsuya says, "I have to go soon."

Nao meets his eyes steadily. Nao would never ask him to stay, but he won't tell him to go. Natsuya knows this the way he knows the cool embrace of the pool, the way he knows the sun can only be loved if the moon is there to be its opposite. But— 

"Go," Nao says then, and the word breaks over Natsuya like a tidal wave.

"Nao," Natsuya breathes, slowly, deeply, as if he could swallow up the air that surrounds Nao and make it part of his own body. It feels like a chain that has always leashed him has been undone, and now he knows what freedom tastes like. "I thought I didn't want you to tell me to go."

Nao raises his hand again, and this time he touches Natsuya's head, smoothing his fingers through messy brown hair. "I know you," he says, simply. 

Nao has never needed to say  _ I love you.  _

 

_ i will never look away _

_ don't you ever look away _


End file.
